


(onion)

by fleaflofloyd



Category: Call the Midwife
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-08
Updated: 2020-06-08
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:20:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24600730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fleaflofloyd/pseuds/fleaflofloyd
Summary: Twitter prompt: Valerie confesses her love for Lucille, during the events of ep 7x07, aka Barbara's death.I'd like to particularly thank Grace (@valeriedxer) for posting Val/Lucille scenes on twitter, and for squeeing so loud I can't help but join in. Thanks, bb.Separate from my 'I never thought...' universe.--------------------
Relationships: Lucille Anderson/Valerie Dyer
Kudos: 34





	(onion)

"Did you go to Mrs Palmer's prayer meeting?" 

Valerie watches Lucille look up briefly from her writing to say _no_ , before looking away. 

She needs to try harder. 

"Why not?" 

Lucille looks up again and takes Valerie in. 

"She remind me--too much of my mother and her sisters--" Lucille sighs, "and everything I miss from home. Makes me ache." 

Valerie knows something about that. 

She aches every time she's close to Lucille. 

Like right now. 

Her mere presence is enough to elevate Valerie's heartbeat, have her hurting in ways she knew were dangerous. 

She's done this before. Felt this way before. She knows what it is. She's kept herself awake on multiple nights mulling it over.

Especially now, with Barbara in the hospital.

She loves Lucille. Loves her more than a friend would. Loves her in the way Tom loves Barbara. 

And it suddenly isn't enough anymore. It isn't enough to just sit by Lucille's side. To take what she can get. She wants more. She wants more for herself. 

Does she trust Lucille enough to tell her the truth?

Valerie has never had a boyfriend in the entire time she's been at Nonnatus. There haven't been any suitors either. She knows Trixie has begun to pick up on her awkwardness during conversations about men, or her lack of history with them. She has no stories to tell, damning in itself. 

But Lucille... 

Lucille's an onion, with layers Valerie has only just begun to peel. She suspects there are many more to go. 

Valerie looks at her writing to her mother, lengthy letters to send back home, in the midst of uncertainty. Something to rely on; a familiarity in the upheaval. 

She wishes she could have something like that. She wishes she could be honest with Lucille in the way she needs to be. 

But she can't. 

So she opens her mouth, to say something helpful, instead of what she wants. 

"If it was me, and I was that way inclined, I'd be there like a shot."

Valerie returns to her magazine, imagining how it would play out. 

She'd take a hold of Lucille's hand. Squeeze it lightly. 

Lucille's face would be confused, then there'd be a flash of curiosity in those wonderful brown eyes of hers. 

"Luce, there's something I'd like to say." 

Lucille would catch onto the intimacy of her shortened name, a light sparking in her eyes. 

"Go for it."

"I think you're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen." 

Lucille's eyes would widen, and she'd start shaking her head bashfully, disagreeing. 

Val would squeeze her hand again. 

"Whether you believe me or not isn't the point. I think you're the most beautiful girl in the world because I am so utterly and desperately in love with you it makes my chest hurt. I constantly have butterflies in my stomach when I'm around you. I want to get to know you, really know you, every single layer of you that I can't see yet, if only you would let me. I think we'd be happy if you could love me the way I love you. I'd make you so happy you'd be delirious from it."

And Lucille would take it all in, listen to every word of Valerie's, and understand. Would tell Valerie she felt the same. Has always felt something more for her. She simply had never known, or been taught what it was. 

Lucille would kiss the grin right off her face. 

"I love you," Valerie would say, and she'd hurt her face from smiling so--

Lucille suddenly says her name, and Valerie's ripped from her imagination back to the real world. 

Lucille is looking at her wide-eyed, shock written all over her face, and Val realises she's said _I love you_ out loud. 

_fuck, fuck, fuck--_

"I mean in a completely--benign way, like marmalade, or fish and chips or--" 

"That's not how you said it, Valerie." Lucille's eyes have narrowed in suspicion. "You said it like...like you have..." 

And something must flash in Val's eyes, some sort of truth there, or admission, because Lucille stands and retreats, hips hitting the kitchen cupboards behind her. 

Valerie jumps to her feet, her chair rocking back. She can see Lucille's mind is racing, conjuring up God knows what. 

She needs to fix--

"Lucille--" 

"How long?" 

Valerie takes a step towards her. "Look, we can forget this convers--" 

"How long?" Lucille's voice is firmer this time. 

Valerie pauses and sighs, looking towards the kitchen entryway. 

She should go now. She should go upstairs and hope Lucille never speaks of this again. 

For both their sakes. 

But Valerie's tired of lying. Tired of omitting the truth. Tired of only having Lucille in her imagination. 

_Barbara's in hospital and you're carrying on like--_

"Val."

Her name is said with kindness, with a sincerity that has always given her hope for something more. 

She never would've fallen so hard for Lucille had she not been so kind. So loving. 

So Lucille. 

"Will you tell S-sister Julienne?" she asks, her throat catching. 

Lucille looks hurt by the suggestion. "How can you think so little of me right now?" 

"Because I don't get to be who I am outside of my own head. That army Sister knew who--what--I was and made my life a living hell because of it."

Lucille softens. "I would never do that to you." 

"But how do I know that? How do I know that for sure? We never would've imagined Barbara getting sick. She's 26, for heaven's sake. Nothing is for sure anymore...I never would've thought your first reaction would be to get away from me." 

Lucille looks sheepish, guilty all of a sudden. She takes a step towards Valerie, trying to ease the hurt she's caused. 

Val steps back. 

She needs to go now. 

And yet she lingers, like a fool. 

"How long, Val?" Lucille whispers it, still wanting an answer. 

Valerie looks down at the floor. "I knew the night of my birthday when you wore that white sleeveless dress, and I couldn't..." 

She trails off, too much information already given. Too much of herself already offered. 

_I couldn't stop looking at you._

_I couldn't stop and I knew._

"You've felt this--you've kept this from me since January?"

Lucille's tone has changed. There's a hardness to it now, an anger there that pricks at Val's senses, her heart flaring with annoyance as she looks up. 

She doesn't get to--

"How could I ever tell you? Your religion thinks people like me are going to hell."

Lucille looks pained at the suggestion. "Is this why you don't believe in God?" 

"Yes. I can't believe in something that wishes to do me harm for how I feel." 

"Well, I don't believe the Lord would do that. Everyone born is born under God, no matter--" 

"Then why are you angry about this?" Valerie counters. 

"Because you're my best friend." Lucille pauses, stepping closer. "You're supposed to know you can tell me anything." 

Valerie watches her and doesn't move. There's a foot between them. She's trying to bridge the gap. Valerie's annoyance settles into something akin to heartache. 

"I love you, the way Tom loves Barbara. Or Fred loves Violet. The way our parents love each other. Being best friends hurts because I get to have only a layer of the onion that is you, when I want more than that."

Lucille says nothing. But she's hurt nonetheless. 

"So no, I can't just tell you anything. I can't just be your best friend. I know you don't feel the same. It's been obvious the entire time I've--

Lucille steps closer, right into Valerie's personal space. Her hand is suddenly held, her heartbeat racing in her chest at Lucille--

"W-what are you doing?" 

"Trying to understand." 

Lucille lifts her other hand, gently brushing aside the bow of Val's blouse to settle her palm against where Val's heart is. 

Val stays frozen, unable to move in the intimacy of the moment. She watches Lucille in silence.

"It's so fast," Lucille says softly. 

She nods, dumbfounded, eyes locked to brown ones. 

Lucille lifts their joined hands to her own chest, guiding Valerie to flatten her palm, to feel the space where her own heart beats. 

Val can feel it racing, the same way her own is. Her eyes widen, seeing Lucille comprehend it at the same time.

_She feels it too._

Brown eyes convey surprise and love, but no worry. No fear. Nothing to suggest Lucille is scared of this revelation.

"D-do you understand now?" Valerie asks, her mouth suddenly dry. 

Lucille nods. "I didn't know I could...but I want to." 

"Try?"

"Yes," she replies cautiously. "When Barbara is better, and out of hospital, we can--" 

"Of course," Val tells her. 

Neither of them steps away. They share a long moment of silence, simply looking at one another. 

Val can feel both their hearts continuing to race. 

Then Lucille is suddenly smiling, amusement sparkling in her eyes. 

"Did you just refer to me as an onion?" 

\---

They lose Barbara. 

Valerie comforts Tom with the others, staying close to Lucille, drawing strength from her. 

Then she retreats up to her room, letting her grief overtake her, tears streaming down her face as she sobs. 

She hears the door open and close, looking up to see Lucille crying, moving around Trixie's bed toward her.

Val stands and meets her halfway, kissing her quickly as if their lives depended on it, grief mixing with tenderness. 

"I love you," Val gets out, still kissing her. 

"I love you," Lucille says, holding Valerie tighter.

They take comfort in the shared connection, as their hearts ache for their lost friend. 


End file.
